


Nathaniel

by Python07



Series: 5 People Who Care if Richard Woodhull Lives or Dies and 1 Who Doesn’t [2]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Gen, spoilers for ep 1.9 Against Thy Neighbor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel: the frenemy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nathaniel

It was hot and humid. The forest was alive with the sounds of animals and men in the distance. He had a tree at his back for support and cover. He set his rifle down next to him.

He looked around while he tore a strip from his shirt to tie around the bloody wound on his thigh. His hands shook and they were sweating. He bit his bottom lip, hard.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He concentrated on breathing through the pain. His breaths were harsh and ragged but he made no other sound.

He opened his eyes to find a rifle barrel pointed at his face. His focus narrowed to the way the sunlight glinted off the wood and metal. He didn’t really see the man holding said rifle. The man was just a blur of dark hair and tan clothes. The scent of gunpowder hung in the air.

The man said something in French that he couldn’t understand.

“No Français.” He shrugged helplessly. His hand inched towards his own rifle. 

The Frenchman’s eyes flashed dangerously as he snarled something else. 

He hastily put his hands up. The Frenchman motioned for him to stand but he couldn’t. He pointed down to his bleeding thigh.

The Frenchman bared his teeth and the prisoner was sure that he was about to meet his Maker.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. A hole appeared in the Frenchman’s chest. He dropped to his knees, a shocked expression on his face. He looked down at the spreading red stain before he pitched forward dead.

The prisoner let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He managed a smirk for his comrade standing a few feet away, a comrade with fewer lines on his face and only a hint of silver in his temples. “You have an impeccable sense of timing, Richard.”

“And you have a nose for trouble, Nathaniel.” Richard rolled his eyes as he hurried to Nathaniel’s side. He grabbed the Frenchman’s rifle and slung it over his shoulder. “How bad is it?”

“It hurts like hell, but I think I’ll live.”

Richard found a pistol in the Frenchman’s belt. He handed it to Nathaniel. “The Colonel wanted to leave you. He said it would serve your arrogance right,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Then he’s going to hate that I know where the French are headed,” Nathaniel retorted hotly.

Richard didn’t react to the tone. He helped Nathaniel to stand. “You are lucky that I was able to change his mind.”

Nathaniel couldn’t help hissing in pain. He clutched Richard’s arm. “I know that you would miss me.”

“Like another hole in the head,” Richard answered dryly. He easily took most of Nathaniel’s weight. “Come on. Let’s get back to camp.”

Nathaniel blinked and almost fifteen years had passed. He sat in a chair in front of the fire in the main room of Richard’s house. He took a sip from a glass of brandy. He smiled. “Dinner is always a pleasure here.”

Richard inclined his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment to Aberdeen. I only provide the food. She prepares it.”

Nathaniel laughed. “Now that you’ve filled my belly, what do you want from me?”

Richard chuckled. “I only have a suggestion.”

“What?”

“Perhaps,” Richard began carefully, “you could temper some sentiments in your sermons.” He didn’t look away.

Neither did Nathaniel. He frowned. “What sentiments?”

“Some of what you’ve said about the Crown could be considered…” Richard paused in search of the right word. “…seditious.” His voice was mild and unconfrontational.

Nathaniel set his glass to the side. He took a deep breath and tried to match Richard’s tone. He only partially succeeded. “Questioning the way we have been treated is not sedition. We are not treated as equal citizens.”

Richard sat forward. “A redress of grievances is possible if we are patient.”

Nathaniel did the same. “How long are we supposed to be patient? How long are we supposed to live under their boot heel?” he asked, low and intent. “We are free men.”

“You would support a rebellion?” 

“If there was no choice, yes,” Nathaniel answered stubbornly.

Richard sat back, away from Nathaniel. “We could not win,” he said with quiet conviction.

Nathaniel stared at Richard, open mouthed. “What makes you so sure?”

“How are we supposed to stand up to one of the best equipped and trained armies in the world, not to mention the Royal Navy?”

Nathaniel jumped to his feet. “We would have right on our side.”

Richard looked up at Nathaniel, as calm and composed as ever. “Isn’t that what rebels always say?”

Nathaniel blinked again and looked around the dank cellar where he and the rest of the conspirators were being held. He glared at his shackles. “Oh, Richard, I admit that I’ve wanted to strangle you in the past, but I don’t want to see you dead. What is to become of us?”


End file.
